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She asked if I usually cook Thanksgiving. It struck me as an odd question. Who else would cook?…I am the mom…after all.

“Yes, I have cooked, give or take a year, for the past 27 years.”

Her eyes got big, “Wow, I never cook Thanksgiving.” Now I was intrigued. She is a mom too. How did she pulled that off?

She explained that the first time she cooked a turkey it wasn’t fully cooked when she served it, so her family didn’t want her to be responsible for the next years, or any year after thats’ holiday meal.

Brilliant. Why had’t I thought of that? I had, after all, accidentally burned the first shirt my then husband asked me to iron resulting in his never asking again. I had the paradigm. I saw how it worked. I didn’t take the hint.

Later that same day, when rescheduling a client, I offered a session the week of Thanksgiving. She declined explaining she will be too busy preparing for Thanksgiving. She was cooking.

I thought of the many Thanksgiving weeks that I worked in Pittsburgh while living in Chalk Hill. An hour and a half commute that I returned home from on Wednesday night around 6 or 7. I had made the stuffing, nut bread, and cranberry bread and shopped the weekend before so all that needed to be done to get dinner on the table in the next 20 hours was par boil, peel and make the white sauce for the creamed onions; peel, boil and mash the potatoes; prepare and boil the green beans to toss into the sautéed garlic and chopped shallots; whip the heavy cream into perfect decadence; put the leaf in the table and set it for 8-10 friends and family; panic because every year I seemed to forget the cornucopia themed paper napkins leaving me with Scott Every Days to design the Martha Stewart wannabe table; oh yeah, stuff and cook the turkey.

Apple and pumpkin pie was deliciously prepared by my then Husband. I never learned how to make pies, so he did. (Hint, hint.) Kathleen brought the sweet potato casserole. Heidi another dessert and/or vegetable.

This is what I expected of myself. And soon it became what my family expected also. I trained them well. It never occurred to me that it was too much to do or that I could do less. Especially when working a full week. Out of town no less.

It is Thanksgiving again with Christmas right around the corner. And you know I am no easier on myself at Christmas. I usually begin asking myself, sometime the morning of December 26th, why I do this to myself year after year, concluding with my traditional New Years Resolution promising not do so much in the new year.

I do it for other reasons too. I do it for the sake of tradition, so my kids have endearing holiday memories, because my mom cooked Mama B’s cornbread stuffing and creamed onions, although she did not work outside of the home and the tension at the well set table of china and sterling usually made dinner a fast and furious event, because when all the preparations are complete and the people I love most in the world are sitting around the table, I feel sweetly and fully blessed.

Yesterday I was offering to teach Jena how to make her great grandmothers Alabama corn bread stuffing. (Perhaps unconsciously passing the torch…PLEASE.) Jena said she was planning on being one of those people that never learned to cook. (She does seem to date guys that love to cook.) I heard myself judgmentally ask,”How do you think that will be for your kids?” My question shamed her into retracting her statement saying she was only kidding.

As I retold this exchange to Tom I owned how sexist it was of me to assume holiday traditions will be her responsibility.

So how does a mom do it? Create tradition, if that is important to her, and not exhaust herself in the process? Ask for more help? Do less? Care less? It is a labor of love that can end in tired resentment.

I try not to, but still do. In Mexico, this fall (no pun intended), I missed a step down walking into a courtyard. I did my best to catch myself, hopping on one foot, while forward momentum propelled me into the legs of an unsuspecting Mexican man. He did his best to catch me while saving himself from being knocked over. I did my best to right myself to save what little pride I still had. “Perdon,” I gasped leaning against his legs.

This past December, for my 54th birthday, I was given The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo by 2 different friends. (I pay attention when the same gift comes from multiple people. I assume I must need it.) It is a daily meditation book. I highly recommend it.

Yesterday, adhering to my new spiritual practice/new years resolution, I read the entry for the day. It was about letting go so we don’t fall down. The line I was drawn to was, “…in a moment of ego we refuse to put down what we carry in order to open the door.” The author was referring to a friend of his who refused to put down two opened gallons of paint, drop cloths, mixing sticks, and paint brush to open a door. As a result he lost his balance and fell. You can imagine the mess. It was red paint. Continue reading →

My sister-friend Heidi and I were checking in with each other this morning. “How is your New Year so far?” we took turns asking, two days into 2012.

“I’m failing miserably,” I confessed. “I wrote my 10 self centered resolutions in It’s All About Me last week. Since then, unfortunately, I have been more efficient than ever. I am caring about everything to the point of mild paranoia and I am talking to fill all silences. It’s like when I say I am going on a diet and then I eat more than I usually do.” Continue reading →

Why you ask? Why today, December 26, 2011? Because I can and because it is time. The kids are old enough to feed themselves, dress themselves, drive themselves. Tom and I are old enough that we aren’t creating a new life but mingling our existing lives. My friends are “lifers” so we trust each other to be there even if we don’t see each other often. And after planning, preparing and executing my family’s thirty-first Christmas, I am tired. Very tired and a bit ornery.

My problem is I am the queen of relationship. For me, relationships always take precedence. I choose others before myself. I come by this honestly. My mom taught me well, both through her words and her actions. It was all about her. Her lesson was, “If you don’t please others they will leave you.” The truth was if I didn’t please her she emotionally left me. I could count on it. As a result I learned to pay more attention to her, to what she needed and wanted, than to my own needs. Truth be told, during my childhood years, what I needed was her attention and love, so learning how to give her what she needed was how I got what I needed. In a distorted way it worked for both of us.

It just doesn’t work so well anymore. No one in my life today, except mom, excepts or needs this from me in 2012. I just end up feeling tired and resentful referencing this old belief system. So my New Years resolution is to practice self centeredness. (I know you think this is a bad idea, self centered people are not fun to be around. Keep reading and see what you think of my idea.) Continue reading →

Loving Life

My "Loving Life" page is an open forum, by readers, that collects life-loving moments. You are invited to tell your story by sharing how you follow your interests, listen to your heart, and pursue your dreams.
( Submit a story here. )

kim on Loving LifeHOPELESSLY DEVOTED
what's funny is everyone
worships Something all day,
even the coldest fish
rabid devotion swims
in the blood
like corpuscles
of Light
people just make
small gods
of their parnters
or kids
dreams or
desires
power
or money
being mad
or being liked
their worries,fears
or doubts,
regrets or pain
so why not
just make
an all-consuming,
shining
Deity of
Love?
This is by tosha silver..enjoy

kim on Loving LifeI love my life why? They are doing a research study at my hospital on stroke patients. Most of the patients have a severe stroke affecting one side. They are be treated with stem cells. There is one man who absolutely amazes us when we scan him. The first time he came he couldn't move his entire left side or stand up. The next time he stood. Then he took 10 steps to the table. Everytime he comes the improvement is absolutely stunning. We are so excited that severe stroke victims can be helped by these stem cells. We asked the where they came from and they are manufactured and sent in. I love my life when I get to be part of amazing medicine..............